Tuesday, January 1, 2013

Diagnosis: PTSD

Someone once told me that 'We are merely a threat in the tapestry of life. We have a beginning, an end, sometimes we break during our time when we are woven, at which time we either are repaired or sometimes we are tied into a knot with another threat, this is marriage. But when the spool runs out our life is at its end'

Friends our spool is getting lighter, make the most out of it!﻿

My last post was my second encounter with the tragedies of the Vietnam War. The blog consisted of Chapter 8 of my book Force of Fate - Letters to Oma. I always understood that what happened to me was not the result of an assignment, TDY or other connected excursion. It was the boredom of the type of assignment I was experiencing that caused me to seek out friends and fun. In the mean time Fate had other ideas for me. Certainly my first day trip to Vietnam was exciting and fun. It was a life lesson without many twists and turns. The second day-trip was the exact opposite. From the arrival at Da Nang to my departure some 22 hours later. Fate threw everything possible at me. This became a life-changing trip. My stepfather had trained me years earlier to be the best soldier, in retrospect a killing machine. After boot camp I was asked many times why I did not become a sniper and even today my answer is the same; The US Government decided my Fate the day I raised my hand and became a soldier. No matter what I did , right or wrong, there was no deviation from their expected goals. How many soldiers have you heard of that struck a superior officer and remained in the service of Uncle Sam? Probably not many, but I was told to be more careful.

So time passes and I return home and slowly I sink into a place that is dark, bare, cold and lonely for me. After 4o years it takes a military friend and my wife to convince me to go to the VA for treatment. Reluctantly I go and I begin a regiment of psychological treatments augmented with constant changes of doctors. No sooner did I take to a doctors and he or she would be transferred somewhere else. Finally in 2010, I had a psychiatrist and a psychologist which I trusted enough to confide in. The psychiatrist was the first to wonder if it was PTSD that I was suffering from? Of course being a proud man I denied it to myself every chance I got. Some notes were made in my medical records and upon my next visit with my psychologist the subject was brought up and I was instructed that I would begin a 12 visit program to address my problem.It all began with my "Stuck Points". I had to go home think about them and write them down. That's better said than done. The dog ate my homework. So when I arrived for my first encounter, I had not written one line. I had no 'stuck points'. So the doctor began writing down my problems and each time she wrote a line, I just smiled. She knew me better than my wife. OK, so you call them stuck points, to me they are survival points. Her answer was: Why do you need survival points now? You are home, you are safe. " Doc, have you picked up a paper lately or turned on the TV, we are far from safe. " That didn't phase her, she continued and ended up with a long dozen. I was to focus on these and change my outlook. By week seven some points stuck with me or perhaps I became unstuck from them. On of them did not budge, I could not stop it from blaming myself for the death of my best friend.For those who read my previous blog, you will remember that after I returned to base aboard the Spooky, I waited for my friend to return. Than did not happen. When automatic beacon signals were picked up in the jungle a Search and Rescue Mission was initiated. Pulling some strings I ran out to the helicopter only to be told that I could not travel on this mission without proper equipment. Flak jacket, helmet and a M-16. They held the chopper until I returned and we were airborne. When we arrived at the crash site, the VC had moved their prisoners to a nearby hiding place. When the chopper landed and we disembarked we heard gunfire coming from a path nearby. Without retelling the entire story let me just say this. Since that day I have asked myself constantly why him, why not me. Then the guild would strike: was it my fault, because I held up the helicopter because I was not prepared and that caused the loss of life? I might sleep a little better because with medicine and constant discussions I have done away with some of my nightmares but the one question still hangs over me. Was it my fault.In 2012 another change took place when a new psychiatrist came to our little outpost here in Delaware. Reluctantly I went to my first appointment with him. Now friends you all know by now that I am 100% German. Born in the Vaterland, raised there and I speak the language. My name gives me away, especially if whoever sees it is a history buff. In 1945, when I was given this name I was only the second child born in Germany with such a name. The first was the son of Rudolf Hess. I will let you research who he was. I stay out of politics. Turns out my new doctor is of Jewish descend. With these facts people right away thought we would have problems. Not so, at all. He was very professional at first until he got to know me and our conversation became personal. At one point he read in my records that I still suffered from 'self blame'. He looked at me and asked point blank: " Why do you blame yourself?" Now I am used to have psychiatrists ask me question and then ask me to give them the answer. He was different, he looked at me with a frown on his face. When he spoke again these were the words that came out of his mouth: "Did you ever think that had you been prepared and the helicopter was on time that your helicopter may have been shot down and all of you may have died that day?' I almost fell off my chair. The fact that he answered his question was unique but the answer itself was so to the point. Its taken me 6 months to accept this theory but since I can't answer it with any certainty, I have to accept its possibility. Blame is not gone but has been diminished. maybe 2013 will be better for me and I can make it better for those who care about me.Maybe now I can allow love to come into my heart again and let it surround me with a new light.

1 comment:

I know you have been through a lot. I think many of us with mold exposures and subsequent losses and traumas suffer from some form of PTSD. I am glad that you are making progress toward letting go of some of the demons that are haunting you.

I wish you the best in 2013 and may you continue to push forward in this healing.

About Me

From the time of my childhood with my Oma, it has been
instilled in me that Fate or Destiny was to be my guiding light my entire life.
To further cement this believe into my soul, some years ago a friend recruited
me to aid him in a project he was working on. It was not the object of this
project that fascinated me as much as the little booklet he printed and packed
with the object. In short, the title of the booklet was ‘The pyramidal threat
of life’. It was his believe that each of us was a threat in the tapestry of
life. We, the threat , were pulled off some huge spool and inserted into the
weaving machine. From that moment on we would cross paths with many other
threats. We, as a threat, would break and be repaired to continue on our way.
At some point another threat would intersect hours and we would be knotted
together to continue our joint venture. We had tight the knot. Unfortunately
all threats end at some point and we are left behind, perhaps forgotten, or we
could have made an impressive statement with our threat that we would go down
in history.

There was something missing to me. I searched for some time
and finally realized that to little emphasis was placed on the ‘spool of
threat’ we came from. This spool used to contain the threats of our ancestors,
who, through the makeup of the material of the threat had left us with their
character and hence the threat that still remained on the spool was that of my
future generations who would inherit the trades of my ancestors and those I
would pass unto them

So no matter what I did or didn’t do, my legacy will always
be a part of my tapestry of life. Whether anyone would see it and interpret it
cannot be said for certain. No matter, we are all there for history, preserved
forever .This book, placed in the darkest corner of a library, covered with
spider webs will still bear witness to the deeds a few did for the many.